Escupitadors De Muerte (Capitulo Siete)
by Veronica Catherine Richards
Summary: The LAST part of a rather...interesting...selective...backwards...Round Robin story...


death spitters 7

And then…everything's over. 

Rachel is sitting on a block of stone, her head in her hands, staring at the body of Voldemort. It's lying on the floor, broken, in a black shroud. 

Peter Pettigrew has reverted to rat form in his terror, and is cowering against the back wall. 

There are snakes all over the floor. Little green and gold and silver snakes, slithering and hissing. 

Harry lifts his head. "Rachel?" 

Rachel doesn't look at him. "Yeah." 

Harry shakes his head, tries to clear the cobwebs out of his mind. "What now?" 

Rachel stands up. "Here's what happened. Voldemort somehow managed to capture you and lock you up in the dungeon. When I heard what had happened, I tried to go down and rescue you. Voldemort knocked me out and was going to kill me, but you managed to escape from your bonds and save me. Then you and him had a huge fight, and you killed him. Got that?" 

Harry stares at her. "That isn't what happened!" 

"That's what you're going to tell everyone, though." Rachel stands up, still staring at the dead body on the floor. "Peter, would you take him upstairs, please?" 

Peter turns human again. "Yes, mistress." 

"And don't call me that," Rachel tells him. "From this moment on, I hereby expel you from the Death Eaters. You are one of the good guys. Got that?" 

Peter nods. "All right." He looks tired and put-upon. He silently takes Harry by the arm and escorts him upstairs. 

Rachel murmurs the Mourner's Kaddish over the dead man, works a stone loose with her foot, scoops up some dirt, and sprinkles it over him. The body shrivels up and disappears. 

Then, Rachel carefully scoops up each of the newborn snakes, which are all over the dungeon by this time. There aren't that many of them, actually; they're just very quick. She carries them to a hole in the wall, near the floor, and allows them to escape through it, one at a time. 

Then she sits back down on the stone block. "All right, let's get this over with," she mutters, and speaks the words that will summon the Death Eaters. 

"So," Harry asks, "why did you join the Death Eaters in the first place?" 

Peter sighs. "It was when your parents got married," he says. "Do you know what it's like to see the one person you truly love get married to someone else? I was devastated." 

Harry nods. "Yeah." 

"I found Voldemort," Peter continues, "and—I don't know what I expected. I think I wanted him to kill me. But he accepted me into the Death Eaters, and there you have it." 

"So, you joined the Death Eaters because you were in love with Lily?" Harry asks. 

Peter is silent for a moment. "No," he says at last. "It wasn't Lily I was in love with." 

Shadows appear on the walls on the dungeon, and resolve themselves into the shapes of people. Rachel waits, her arms crossed, until at last they are all here. 

"Take off your hoods," she snaps. "I want to know who you are." 

One by one, the Death Eaters remove their hoods. There are people Rachel knows as Death Eaters, people she knows but never suspected of being loyal to her father, and people she has never seen. There are two things they have in common—they are all frightened, and they are all men. 

Rachel slowly lets her gaze travel around the room. "You," she says, pointing at a tall man with ice-blue eyes and silver-blonde hair. "What's your name?" 

The man bows. "I am Lucius Malfoy," he says. "I am pleased to meet you, Lady." 

"How about you?" Rachel asks a man who is one evolutionary step away from being Cro-Magnon. 

"Vince Crabbe," the man grunts. 

"And you?" Rachel asks his lanky companion. 

"Greg Goyle," the man mutters. 

Rachel sticks her hands in her pockets. "Your Dark Lord is dead," she tells them. "I killed him." No one makes a move. "Are you not going to avenge him?" 

Lucius coughs. Rachel gets the feeling that he's a senior Death Eater. "No, Lady," he says. "The Lord's instructions were that we were to obey you if he was defeated." 

Rachel raises one eyebrow. "Really. Did he give a reason why?" 

Lucius shrugs. "'Tis a mystery." 

"All right." Rachel composes her thoughts, and announces, "We're going to do this the old-fashioned way. This is your chance to quit, right now. If you're afraid, or if you're no longer loyal, or if you don't think this is right—you can leave. There will be no repercussions, no consequences." 

No one disappears. 

Rachel glares at them. "I mean it," she says. "Any of you can leave right now, and I won't care." 

No one stirs. 

Rachel throws up her hands. "Look, this is your last chance to back out!" 

"We are all loyal to you, Lady," Lucius says. There is a general rumble of agreement. 

"Fine." Rachel grins. There are a lot of changes she wants to make… 


End file.
